


Full disclosure, I am a monster

by dimaitkaa



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Eating Disorders, Edward should have a tag, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Panic Attacks, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Phil adopts another kid, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Poor Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Has a Tail (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Self-Discovery, and, but its important to me that you know this, dream needs antipsychotics, its what he deserves, technoblade is in denial, this isn't actually important to the plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:00:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29191923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimaitkaa/pseuds/dimaitkaa
Summary: the beating of heavy wings and the happy trill that Edward let out was all Technoblade needed to be alerted of Phil's arrival.the door was pushed open with a resounding thump. the sound of boots trudging down the hall pulled a soft snort out of techno. grabbing two bowls full of stew and bringing them to his chipped dining table, he called ou, "Ya know, it's about time you got back. I started makin' dinner without you, but if I'm feelin' generous I might let you have a bite or two-"Techno turned around and stopped.oh.it was Phil in his living room all right. And Phil just happened to be holding an unconscious Ranboo in his arms.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade, Ranboo & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 939





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> song of the day: Jk by Crywank (https://open.spotify.com/track/2pAfh0XxN7gKQmMSeWexyn?si=zQOXv49sSZCzoFMH0jXbkw)

The sun had never seemed so dim. 

It was a stupid thing to notice after such a disaster, with blood, bodies, and destroyed relationships laying in the rubble of L' manburg. In fact, after such an earth rattling catastrophe, he shouldn't have even registered this. He should have been running away. From his panic room, from his home, from his friends-

But he noticed it.

Ranboo knew he wasn't going to ever be welcomed back to L' manburg by its people or walls, not really. After everything that had been brought to light, and with everything they would do if they ever got their hands on him...well, let's just say he would be staying out of their hair until further notice.

And with that revelation came the pressing question of where  _ could  _ he go? 

And there, curled up in the corner of his panic room, in muted sunlight that filtered through the entrance, tear tracks burned onto his cheeks, and trembling, Ranboo couldn't think of anyone.

A pained, inhuman chitter escaped from his throat as a dry sob heaved through him, causing him to curl even further into his knees. How? How had he gotten here? All he had wanted was to stay away from sides. All he’d wanted was to be friends with everyone. All he’d wanted was to be good, regardless of politics. 

Another bout of heavy sobs racked his body as he clawed at his legs. Distressed screeches sounded their way through the chamber, echoing back to his ears. No one else witnessed his sorrow. 

Because he was alone.

Because he was alone, and he had nowhere to go, no home, no friends, no family, no one to comfort him. Because he was alone, and Dream wasn't here, and he wasn't  _ real _ and Dream couldn't hurt him because he was in prison. Because he was alone, and he was a monster, and he was going crazy, and he was so  _ scared,  _ and where was he, and why was he alone again, and what day was it, what time was it, what was his  _ name- _

“-nboo?” 

He heard something small, and sizzley, and sharp. It sounded like it was underwater, and maybe it was underwater, maybe he was underwater, because he couldn't breathe, and he couldn't see, and he couldn't think, and he was biting his arm to muffle the cries, and oh god everything was hurting-

“Ranboo? Did you make it out ok?” 

And that was weird, because something was calling him, and it was starting to sound a little less under water, and a little more familiar, and a little more real. Ranboo, clawing at his kness and pulling at his hair, wanted real.  _ God,  _ he  _ needed _ real. Breathing hurt, and thinking hurt, and  _ being _ hurt, but something was calling him. And it didn't sound like it wanted to kill him. And it sounded real. 

Ranboo took a shuddering breath that barely filled his lungs with anything before puffing it out in a half sob. A teary, frustrated whine followed. At least it wasn't a terrible, chest heaving sob like before. His mind was muddled and panic-ridden, his lungs were gasping for a full breath, and his vision was blurry with tears, but he did his best to slow down.

He took another shuddering inhale, this one holding for a second before he let go, and it was determined as an improvement. 

Blinking his eyes a couple times, attempting to clear them of tears, Ranboo did his best to scan the room for anything familiar. And wouldn't you know it, there, on the ledge of the entrance was a bird. A bird with glowing blue eyes, and with something he couldn't quite remember, but his panicked subconscious picked up anyways.

When he tried to at first, all that came out was an enderman like creak. Stopping, and taking another moment to steady himself, he tried again. 

“P-Phil?” it was wobbly, and scratchy, and hardly sounded like common tongue, but it was there. 

“Ranboo!” The bird's wings fluffed happily, but its beak stayed wide open, like a speaker. “I was starting to wonder if you were there. Anywho, did you make it out okay?”

Ranboo’s eyes unfocused and fluttered shut. Phil. Phil was good, and he didn't think Phil had any reason to hate him right now.

“Y-” tremors hard enough to make him nauseous racked him, “yea. I'm still alive.”

A chuckle filtered into the room, clear and kind, but heavy with exhaustion. Right. Ranboo wasn't the only one who had been affected.

“Good. where are you, ill come find you,” and nope, no way in hell was Phil going to see him like this, in his god awful panic room, drenched in his own tears, blood, and sweat. Ranboo straightened himself and wiped away at his tears hurriedly, ignoring the sting it brought to his cheeks and hand.

“Wel-uhh… um y-you see i'm kinda-well not kin-im..”  _ cool our jets Ranboo, get it together,  _ ”i'm near L' manburg. I can be there in a minute.” 

Heaving himself up, and absolutely  _ not  _ stumbling over his own feet and falling back down a few times, Ranboo hauled his way out the door, ignoring the way hiccups still pushed at his throat and self inflicted scratches littered his legs. 

“...Ranboo?”

“Yea?”

“Do you need a place to stay?”

The ash clouds blew out of the sun's face, if only for a moment, and the afternoon light hit Ranboo, warming his bones.

“Y...yea. I-we-I… I think I do.”

He didn't have to see Phil’s face to know he was concerned.

The heavy beat of wings, wings strong enough to carry a person, sounded nearby.

“There you are,” the bird exclaimed, but Ranboo could hear the distant echo of a person saying the same thing. Oh jeez. When Phil had said he'd come find him, he had assumed they'd meet in L' manburg. Not here, before he had time to clean up and pretend he hadn't just had a mini panic attack. 

In hindsight, Ranboo wouldn't have had the energy to make it to L' manburg anyways. His energy had been sucked away by his panic, and his eyelids were heavy, and his limbs felt like lead. And suddenly, maybe it was okay for Phil to see him like this.

The beating of wings got louder, and as Ranboo turned to face Phil, the man landed gracefully, only a few meters away.

Phil's expression was kind and soft, his demeanor as open as possible, and his wings hung low and flat behind him. And there, in the man's eyes, was the concern Ranboo had known would be there. The concern he didn't deserve.

Phils eyes were fixed on Ranboo’s wrecked state. Gaze flittering from scratch, to burn, to bruise. When Phil had come searching for the hybrid, this was one of the last things he would have expected. The boys shoulders were slumped with exhaustion, his fluffy hair laid flat against his head, and his hands clawed at the torn fabric of his sleeves. A few stray particles floated around his forms, as his tail hung limp behind him. And his eyes were glazed with too much confusion, fear, and pain for any child to bear in Phil's opinion.

“Oh Ranboo..'' Phil held his arms out in invitation for comfort as he took careful, slow steps forward.

A distorted wail clawed its way out of Ranboo’s throat as the child lunged forward into Phil's arms, curling his fists into the fabric of Phil's shirt as they both collapsed to their knees. He cried, and cried, the inhuman screeches piercing the silent, post-battle land, as crocodile tears scalded his face. But it was ok, because someone had come, and someone was here, and he wasn't alone, and this was real.

The last thing Ranboo registered before everything went black was a huge, gentle hand softly carding through his hair, and heavy, warm wings wrapping around him, shielding him from the world.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song of the day: the moss by cosmo sheldrake (https://open.spotify.com/track/7l8gHk3b9AwjC7gRhOqtP4?si=gewxhQCkSZmKGtCKQs5xnQ)

His hunt had been about as successful as it could have been in a foot of snow. The chat was still muttering to Techno about going back and gathering more blood for the blood god, but a wind chill had just set in and he wasn't  _ that _ suicidal.

A snort of frustration was all the noise he made as he trudged the mile or so back home with a small sack of rabbit slung over his shoulder. 

The flurry had come in from nowhere. Well, not nowhere. Techno knew that the heavy clouds he’d seen hanging menacingly over L’manburg would most likely come back to bite him the ass. He’d just hoped the winds would blow south.

Pushing the front door open, Techno tossed the bag of rabbit on the chipped dining table and hung his cloak on the back of a chair as he adjusted to the warmth of the indoor world again.

Dropping onto the couch next to the fireplace, Techno let out a puff. A questioning warble made itself known, and Techno glanced up at Edward. 

“Heya bud,” he half-heartedly responded, removing his mask to massage the spot between his eyes. Another warble, this time softer, but still questioning.

Techno sighed. “Yea, I’m good Ed. Had a big day is all.” a big day indeed. Destroying L’manburg was no easy task, and when the adrenaline finally wore off, he realized he’d been more tired than he thought. Techno sighed harder.

“I’m too young to feel this damn old,” he grunted as he picked himself up and settled at an open seat at the table, grabbing the rabbit and a handful of potatoes to start making something for dinner. 

Skinning rabbit was easy. He’d done it a million times, so he could allow his mind to wander as he rolled up his sleeves and began the menial task. 

Today had been...rough to say the least. He honestly didn't want to think about L’manburg at the moment. Too much effort and pain he wasn't willing to recount. His train of thought wandered over to his hunt today. The sun had been obscured by thick white clouds, and any tracks were covered quickly by the light snow that fell all afternoon, but the few rabbits he’d managed to come across were large and meaty. he would probably need to go out and set a few traps soon so he didn't have to hunt for hours on end only to gather enough rabbit for a small stew.

Techno was pulled out his thoughts by the completion of his task. Grabbing a pan from the cupboard and igniting the stove, as well as setting up a pot of boiling water, he began to cook. 

They didn't have much food-wise, just a chest full of potatoes, a few loaves of bread, a bit of golden produce, and whatever meat they could scrounge up for the day, but for Techno it was plenty. 

He tossed the meat into the pan, along with a generous pinch of salt, and set it aside to cook while he washed and peeled the potatoes. The wind outside wasn't getting any better, but it wasn't getting worse either. Techno just hoped Phil would get back soon. Its definitely wasn't prime flying condition. 

He chopped the peeled potatoes and tossed them into the now boiling water, and covered them as he went to go stir the meat. 

Techno liked the quiet, he did. But sometimes he’d admit, if only to himself, that his ears would swivel in search for the sound of Tommy and Wilbur distantly arguing as Phil laughed his hat off due to their antics. In those moments, the silence he usually enjoyed felt a little suffocating. But no one needed to know that.

And Phil really should have been back by now.

“Ender, the geezer is taking ages,” he mumbled to himself as he dumped the now finished meat into a bowl and covered it with a cutting board in a small attempt to keep it warm. The potatoes should be done soon, he noted, as Techno went scavenging for some thick rags that would prevent him from being burned. 

By the time the potatoes were drained and seasoned (salt) and mixed with the meat and a bit of lukewarm broth to cool the ingredients and create a weird makeshift rabbit stew, Techno was seriously trying to smash his worry into a box. Phil was fine. Hed lived this long on one life, no way was a little snow storm going to be the end of that stubborn bastard. Techno sat himself at the table and tried to force at least a few bites down the hatch.

His last-ditch efforts were promptly interrupted by the sound of heavy, beating wings and a happy trill from Edward.

Not a minute later, the door was slammed open with a resounding thump.  the sound of boots trudging down the hall pulled a soft snort out of Techno. 

Grabbing Phil’s bowl full of stew and bringing it to his chipped dining table, he called out, "Ya know, it's about time you got back. I started makin’ dinner without you, but if I'm feelin' generous I might let you have a bite or two-"

And goddammit, he wasn't prepared for the spectacle he saw when he turned around.

It was Phil in his kitchen alright. And Phil just happened to be holding a snow dusted, unconscious Ranboo in his arms.

And Phil had the gall to look sheepish.

Techno’s expression must have revealed everything because Phil ruffled his snow-caked feathers, ducking his head in the gesture of an apology as he shuffled over to the couch, laying the kid down gently. 

By the time Phil sat himself at the dining table and reached for his respective bowl of stew, Techno could already feel a headache coming in.

Pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a frustrated sigh, he wondered what he had done to make the gods hate him.

Meanwhile, Phil was digging into the rabbit stew passionately. 

Techno lent over to tug the bowl out of reach. A soft  _ hey _ left Phil’s mouth before seeing Techno’s face. His shoulder slumped and his wings went limp.  _ Heeeere we go,  _ Techno mused.

“Phil?”

“Yes?”

“Why is there a Ranboo popsicle on my couch?”

Phil took his hat off and brought up a hand to run through his hair, exhausted. He hadn't seen his friend this defeated in a while. The bags under his eyes were a little too dark for comfort.

“Listen,” Phil began cautiously. “When I found him, he wasn't really all there.”

Techno raised an eyebrow.

Phil slumped in a little more.

“He wasn't-he wasn't really responding to his name? Not at first at least. I called him a few times through my bird, but it was a while before he answered. I could hear heavy breathing and enderspeak making their way through the com.” Phil began to rub at his forehead as Techno sat up a little straighter.

“when he did respond, it hardly sounded like common. I got him to get a few lines out, but when I finally found him, he was a wreck. All bloody and wet, cryin’ and sweatin’ buckets mate. Pretty much collapsed in my arms sobbing before he passed out.”

Techno wasn't looking at Phil anymore. His eyes were locked on the shivering, muttering, half ender teen knocked out on his couch. 

“Did he say what happened?”

Another heavy sigh, “no, mate.” 

Technos eyes flittered down to the scratched up, bloody limbs that were spilling over, half haphazardly sprawled on the ground. 

Techno could ignore chat until now, but when he spotted the crescent moon shaped cuts dug into the kid’s open palms, they erupted

_ Hurtboo :( _

_ Poor baby _

__

_ HURTBOO _

_ E _

_ Dadza help hurtboo? _

_ Hurtboo needs help :((( _

_ Tall ass  _

_ hurtboo D: _

HELP HIM HELP HEIM HELP THE BABY HELPHIMMMM

_ Don’t spam yall _

_ Hurtboo _

_ E _

**_Did he do that himself?_ **

  
  


That last one kinda knocked the wind out of him a bit. Forcing his eyes away from the lanky kid, his eyes met Phils again. Jesus. Rubbing forcefully at his eyes and letting out the biggest exhale his lungs could manage, he reached over to pat Phil’s forearm.

Their eyes met.

“We should probably patch him up then, shouldn’t we.”

Phil’s solemn smile was all the indication he needed to grab the bandages and healing potions and get to work.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I did this instead of 3 weeks' worth of late math homework so appreciate it :|
> 
> ALSO!! comments warm my heart so feel free to leave some :D


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